A History of Special Agent Caitlin Todd, NCIS
by GoodisRelative
Summary: Spoilers: Twilight. Written for NCIS FanFicAthon. He sat down to write a history of her. Her parents deserved that much.


Title: The History of Special Agent Caitlin Todd, NCIS

Author: JennUkes

Rating: K+

Spoilers: Twilight, most Season 1 and 2 episodes

Disclaimer: you know the drill... Don't own, Don't have any money, blah blah blah.

Summary: He owed her parents a letter of sympathy and accomplishment regarding her short career at NCIS.

Author's note: Sorry about the long title, but hey, it came to me, blame the title bunny. Another sad ghost story, I know, but you know the fickleness of muses. Enjoy. This was story 2 for Blueraccoon's NCIS FanFIcathon. The quote for this one is pretty obvious. This one actually is longer than 1000 words... by 34:) Thanks to Kate98 for betaing.

_It's a curious thing that at my age. . . I should find myself taking a pen to try and write a history._

(H. Rider Haggard)

The words - spoken in Ducky's voice, of course - ran through his mind as he sat facing the infernally blinking cursor.

"I'm not using a pen," his mind tried to argue with the quote. "But I am writing a history," he sighed, trying to focus on what he needed to write. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be in his basement, working on his boat. He wanted to be in some dive, tossing back whiskey until he was blind drunk and had forgotten the last few days - or at the very least, believed them to be a product of a whiskey-induced nightmare. But he knew there wasn't enough whiskey on the planet to get him drunk enough to get the picture of her out of his mind. It would forever haunt his nightmares.

The first time he has seen the image, it had been a nightmare brought on by a terrorist he vowed to kill. The second time he had seen the image, it had been real, again brought on by a terrorist he had been ordered not to kill. Now the image was etched in his mind, destined to stay with him until his last breath. Of that, he was certain, as certain as he was that the bastard terrorist was dead. A bullet between the eyes will do that to a person. Gibbs always kept his vows.

But that wasn't why his eyes were focused on the blank office computer screen, even though it was almost midnight on a Saturday. He'd written the reports on Ari yesterday. Tonight was for a history of sorts - the history of Special Agent Caitlin Todd, NCIS. He owed her parents a letter of sympathy and accomplishment regarding her short career at NCIS. The letter would accompany the medal she had earned when she died.

He'd spent the day with his boat, his mind full of images of her. His mind had brought back everything - the bathroom on Air Force One and her saying that she was destined to shoot him. The feel of her body pressed against his on the sub. Her happiness when working with Abby for the first time. The quick flash of fear in her eyes when he pushed her off the platform in repelling gear. The lost look in her eyes after the "amnesia" victim blew herself and her former lover up. The daggers she tossed his way when he took her PDA and taped it to her target at the range. Her anger at herself about Ari - both times. Her ribbing Tony, indulging Ducky and busting McGee. How she was there for McGee when a witness died on his watch. How she decided to stay with Tony when he was infected with the Plague. Her comment about sleeping with a gun under her pillow.

Gibbs started typing.

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Todd,

Your daughter was an excellent agent. . She was a gifted profiler who was able to combine her knowledge of the facts with her gut instinct to accurately read people.

She had a unique spirit that allowed her to joke, comfort and kick her teammates as they needed it She never let the job get to her and was able to keep her trust in humanity. She was one of the few who could do what we do and see what we see every day and not let it reach her.

She saved my life without thought to herself. I only wish I could have returned the favor. Kate should have had the opportunity for a life full of love and children. Although it brings little comfort, rest assured that the man that killed your daughter has been brought to justice.

Caitlin deserves this medal because of who she was. And we here at NCIS are going to miss her and her excellent abilities.

Sincerely,

Special Agent

L. Jethro Gibbs

"It's perfect, Gibbs. I'm blushing," Kate spoke softly behind him.

He'd known she was there. He could almost smell her light perfume on the air. "Well, I had to make it sound nice for your parents," Gibbs shrugged, still facing the computer screen.

"They'll appreciate that. It will mean a lot to them that you took the time to write that letter," Kate insisted.

"You are going to do this a lot, aren't you?" Jethro sighed and turned around to face her.

"We both know you won't come visit me, Jethro," Kate answered softly. Her ghost took liberties that she never would have in life. It was so Kate.

He just looked at her. She didn't have the hole in her head when she came to him like this. That was only in his nightmares. When she came to him like this, she was dressed for work, gun at her hip and badge on her belt. But she was softer somehow - blurred on the edges. He couldn't see through her, but he knew she wasn't really there. It frightened him when she came, making him wonder if he was insane. But he understood that it would truly terrify him if she ever stopped, leaving him to live out the rest of his days without her.

"Yes, I will," he whispered softly.

"I meant more than once a year with flowers, Jethro." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, you need me."

"I need you alive, damn it!" The words just seemed to burst from him along with his anger.

"That I can't do and we both know it," Kate stated patiently.

"I wish I had said those things to you before," he told her.

"No, you don't. That isn't Gibbs, self-proclaimed bastard. And we both know I'd never have believed the words if you had told me." Kate waved away his words. "Now sign the letter, go home, Jethro, and sleep. Your dreams will be peaceful tonight."

He turned around to sign the letter and when he turned back, she was gone. Gibbs left the letter on his desk and went home to his boat. He slept under it as usual, but tonight his sleep was peaceful.


End file.
